Alone i think in back and white, ink and scribblesThe land of a shadow prisonIn the head of born-well bladesI arise with arid acidand burn with beautiful flames
Category: Fri-losophy
Blank
losing something in a mirror, looks backand finds the only voice in my head,calling me back to embrace,new
Chrysus
I think in cycles. I live in a cycle. Cycles are a big part of my writing. Symmetry, parallels, trios, endless cycles. Breaking them. Twisting. Reforming. Balancing. Numbers and mythology, a different language that I like to use. And hope to be good at, for decent writing, some day. Doubt and frustration. Part of the …
Endless
Identifying my feelings has been a bit easy just for the pure fact that I'm constantly in my head. As a writer, it's kind of required to have some insight to emotions--the reasons, the workings, apart and together. Writing, for me, causes an introspection, especially when I want to pin down character reactions and interactions. …
Intake/Outtake
Sometimes breathing is part of it. It starts every movement, it supplies every muscle, stretches and fuels, and--once in a while--pulls the rivers in the opposite direction.
One Year at a Time
One full year of posting. It's been work. It's been fun. It's been a struggle. It's been glorious. I feel as if I had a lot of low moments. But, I think, I've had just as many high moments producing stories I really enjoyed writing. I'm a little lost on where I'm going yet excited …
Learning Curve
Learning to acceptLearning to liveLearning to understandthe diamond buried barren
Endless Determination
What happens when the vines close?What happens when the rain showers dark?What happens when an avalanche covers?What happens when you fall from high?What happens when you fail?Sometimes it gets close, but finding that last glimmer--at the bottom of the leaves, the debris--I brush the dirt off and start climbing again,Because the choice to give up …
Motivation
One day at a time, one day at a time--Where do you begin?Where do you end?One day at a time, one story at a time--It's a journey, it's a marathon--One day at a time--
For Now
Sometimes there's a day when frustration rattles every word and sentence. It becomes a fight up a muddy hole. Chapters and ideas seem like burnt mush. And every possibility to improve a book, or start something new, melts away before I can get a decent grip. I seem blind. Frustration gains a firmer grip, and …